


Consumption

by RebeccaOTool



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Crossover, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebeccaOTool/pseuds/RebeccaOTool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guys are called to investigate Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ray’s eyes darkened as he looked over the scans. “Egon.”

Egon glanced back. Ray had stopped mid-way between the security office and the hallway beyond. “What is it?”

“This can’t be right. Can it?” There was a tremor in Ray’s voice. 

Egon returned to his side. “Is it an energy spike? The owner said they’ve seen an increase in activity.”

“Just tell me what you see.” 

Egon’s eyes darted over the sheet of paper and its jagged lines. “Readings indicate both human spirits and beings of netherworld origin. The human spirits are unusually powerful. Readings are indicative of a violent passing and--”

Egon stopped cold.

“And?”

“...and strong possibility of excessive life-force at time of passing. Often a signature of the spirits of children.” Egon swallowed.

Ray crumpled the paper. “Why didn’t they tell us?”

“The owners of the facility may not have known.” Egon pulled out the GAGA meter. “The causational incident--”

“ _Incidents_. There’s a lot of spirits here.” 

“It, or they, may have happened before the facility was even erected. Or before the current owners took possession of it.” Egon watched the meter, but nothing registered beyond normal background levels.

“Or they weren’t found.” Ray dropped the wad of paper. 

“Raymond--”

“We’ve gotta call Peter and Winston. This--this isn’t some little repeating class two.” Ray stalked back into the office and snatched the receiver off the hook. “This is serious activity. We’re going to need more traps. Some books from my personal collection too. We’re going to have to--”

“Ray!” Egon grabbed his friend by the shoulders, bringing the speech to an end.

Ray looked at him, tears in his eyes and years added to his face. “We’ve got to do something.”

“We are. You’re right; we need Peter and Winston here.” Egon took a deep breath. “I know the books you have in mind. We’ll get them. It will... _we_ will…”

Be alright? No. There was no scenario where this would be alright. But there would be ways to help. Evil to eradicate and possibly souls to free. They would be...useful.

Just far, far too late to be saviors.

\-----------------------------------

To be continued?


	2. Chapter 2

Peter hung up the phone. “Zedd.”

“What’s wrong?” Winston caught the note in Peter’s voice. “Are the guys okay?”

“Yeah, fine. It’s the readings Ray got when they went in the place.”

“Fazbear’s?” Winston frowned. It was a small job, by all accounts. The owners had reported some sort of nighttime disturbances. The past five night guards had all quit or vanished without an explanation. Some after a single night of work. There had been investigations by police into the disappearances. Nothing had turned up, and out of desperation lieutenant Frump had called them. The owners had been reluctant to bring them in, Winston remembered. That was why only Ray and Egon had gone. 

“They’re getting some weird readings.” Peter rubbed his chin, covering his mouth. He looked like he was going to be sick. “The readings they’re getting look like kids.”

Winston sucked in a deep breath. “ _Kids?_ Plural?”

“Yeah.” Peter looked away. “Kids that died violent deaths.”

Winston rocked back. “Oh my God.” 

“There’s other stuff. Netherworld stuff.” Peter walked to his locked and pulled out his jumpsuit. “We’ve gotta get down there.”

“What do they think happened?”

Peter gave him a bitter smile. “No idea. But I think it’s why Frumpy _really_ called us in. Ray gave me a list of books and equipment they want. I’ll gather it. You call the lieutenant.”

Winston nodded. Ice crept down his spine. He’d served in war. These things happened. Didn’t help much, but it prepped a man. He knew how to handle himself. 

His teammates would have no such advantage. “Was Ray okay?” 

“Tex sounded strained. All the more reason to hurry up.” Peter tried to sound light and failed. 

“I’ll call Frump.” Winston grabbed his jumpsuit and struggled into it one-handed while dialing. Why the hell hadn’t the lieutenant _warned_ them? 

“36th precinct. Lieutenant Frump.” Frump barked. 

“Hello lieutenant. This is Sergeant Winston Zeddemore.” Winston slipped into a harsh voice. He’d need every bit of authority he could muster to make this work. 

“What do you want, Zeddemore?” Frump voice held a total lack of surprise. 

“I want to know about Fazbear’s pizza.” Winston watched Peter vanish upstairs. “About the murders.” 

Time crawled past. “There’s no record of a murder at Fazbear’s.” 

“Not according to my teammates. They’re getting readings for kids.” Winston spoke slowly, not stumbling over a single syllable. “That’s why you called us, isn’t it?” 

“Look Zeddemore, there’s plenty of public records on the place. I’ll give you the low down this one time, but don’t make a habit of it. I ain’t a lending library.” 

“I’d hate to visit the city that’d have you.” Winston said, dry. “What’s going on?” 

“Five reported disappearances over the last few years at a couple of their restaurants. There was an incident with an animatronic injuring a kid too, but that was just bad programming.” Frump burped into the phone. “Sorry. Anyway, we had a few suspects, mostly employees, but nothing ever turned up. Lately they’ve had security guards running out of the place like it’s on fire. Some of ‘em never resurfaced. The ones we _can_ find don’t want to talk, and when we press ‘em all we can get is gibberish about the robots.” 

“So why call us?” 

Frump sighed. “Some of the things jibed with things I’ve heard from cases we sent your way. Phantoms, objects acting weird, real freaky stuff. And...giggling.” 

“Giggling.” 

“I know how it sounds Zeddemore.” Frump snapped. “Listen, we can’t crack this stinkin’ thing, and it’s got under my skin. If there’s even a chance you clow--you guys can figure this out, I’m for it.” 

“And if we happen on the ghosts of a few murdered kids we can knock out your cold cases.” 

“If you can lead me to the sicko that’s taking these kids, I don’t care if you say the Ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future are haunting the place.” Frump sounded weary. “I’m out of options, Zeddemore.” 

“So why not tell us before?” 

"Because a lot of phonies in your line of work would take that information and run with it. Start contacting families and claiming their little ones are buried near a school or a body of water or some other easy to fake thing." 

“You think we’d use missing kids to try and prove we’re the real thing?” Anger colored the words. 

“No. But my bosses do. I got to bring you in on the condition that it was only for the missing guards. Anything else you uncover, well, I can’t control that, can I?” 

Winston took a deep breath. “You could get in a lot of trouble for telling me this.” 

“Yeah. But I couldn’t look myself in the mirror if I didn’t. That’s all I got, Zeddemore. You uncover clue one, I expect to get the first call. Ya got that?” 

“Yeah, I got that.” Winston watched Peter clump downstairs holding a huge box. “I’ve got to go.” 

“Okay, go find your ghoulies. And Sergeant?” The sarcasm left Frump’s voice. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks.” Winston hung up. 

Peter peered over the boxtop at him. “Got something?” 

Winston nodded. “And we’re gonna need it.” 

\----------------------------------- 

To be continued... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer any questions you may have about the timeline; this is set in the location from FNAF 1, with the history from FNAF 2 existing as we know it (check MatPat’s numerous videos for more on that subject. Not all, but more). My story is an alternate timeline where instead of hiring Mike Schmidt, the guys were called in. Hope that clears things up. As to the other games, the guys being there could eradicate future events of FNAF 3. We’ll just have to see how they handle their nights at Freddy’s.


	3. Chapter 3

Ray watched the security footage, unseeing. “They started taking the other foster kids here right before I turned 18.”

Egon glanced up from his meter. “I thought this facility was only a few years old.”

“It is. There was another restaurant, a long time ago. It was bigger, had the best mechanics for it’s time.” Ray paused the footage and frowned. “I helped chaperone one trip. The tech was really amazing for those days. The robots walked around, delivered pizza and cake to birthday kids, that sort of thing. I guess it wasn’t cost effective, so they scaled everything back for this place.”

“The guards the police interviewed said the animatronics started to act erratically after midnight.” Egon looked to the clock. It was ten thirty. It would be a while before Winston and Peter arrived.

“It could be from the spirits.” Ray frowned at the footage. “Gee, these things are _really_ active. They’re wandering down the hallways a lot.”

Egon looked over his shoulder. “The footage glitches a lot; it looked like the animatronic teleported from one location to another.”

“That’s...odd.”

“Indeed.” Egon looked at the current security feed. Several plush robots were motionless on a small stage. Another screen showed a drawn curtain and an out of order sign. “One of the reports said the animatronics can be dangerous if engaged after midnight.”

“Hmm. That could be tricky."

Egon looked back at his readings. Muddled at best. Too many spirits could confuse the meter. There were at least four that were human in origin, and at least one powerful spirit of netherworld origin. The netherworld spirit could be trapped and contained without qualms, but the formerly human ones...Well, that depended. They might disperse after a good talking to, or after some unfinished business was completed. 

All the more difficult a task if they were children wishing to live the rest of their lives.

That was assuming the association with the netherworld specter hadn’t mutated them into something monstrous that refused to disperse. Then they might have to be trapped and contained.

Egon repressed a shudder. 

“I’m going to do a walk around and see what I can pick up.” Ray pushed back from the desk. A small plush chicken wobbled and fell over. He righted it.

“I’m getting low levels of activity. I’ll monitor you from here and see if anything changes.” Egon slid into the empty chair. 

Ray nodded and exited into the right hallway. It emptied into the main restaurant and stage area. The place was low-lit; usually the cleaning staff would still be on site, but the restaurant had closed early to allow them unrestricted access. 

Ray stared out across the tables. The stage was dim. The animatronics stood ridged, eyes and mouths open. Ray walked forwards, past the restrooms, the pantry, and the kitchen. 

Nothing moved. Ice crawled down his spine.

“Hello?” He approached the stage. The meter didn’t bleep. “Um. Are you guys turned off?”

The eyes stared ahead, unseeing.

Ray turned left. The pirate’s cove stage was quiet, curtain drawn nearly shut. An old ‘out of order’ sign hung askew. He reached out to straighten it.

Something glimmered in the dark.

Ray snatched his hand back, sucking in a sharp breath. “Hey. Who’s back there?”

He twitched the curtain aside. A robotic fox with one eye and a hook twinkled in the gloom. It’s metallic fangs glinted. He waved the meter. A single dot dipped upwards. Something was here, though inactive.

Or asleep.

Ray slid the curtain shut, and holstered the meter. Time to make plans.

\---------------------

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

The three doctors listened as Winston finished updating them. “So, we’re looking at a pretty complicated case, guys. Missing adults, kids, and ghosts.”

“And here I thought we’d be relaxing with pizza and skee ball.” Peter leaned back in the guard's swivel chair, nearly upending it. 

Egon reached out and pushed it upright, eyes locked on Winston. “We have something more sinister than a classic haunting here, gentlemen. Violence attracts the nastiest spirits, and this is the worst kind of lure.”

“So, what are we figuring? The bad spirits lured in by the...well, they’re here, and possessing the animatronics?” Peter swallowed.

“Yeah. They might be feeding off the energy of the kids.” Ray looked pale. “If they’re powerful enough they could open doorways to the netherworld and trap the guards there.”

“Hey, how do we know these kids aren’t just in the netherworld then?” Winston interjected.

Ray shook his head. “If they weren’t here we wouldn’t get these readings. It’s...there’s no mistaking it. An uneasy soul has a distinct reading.”

Peter closed his eyes and shook his head. “Can you track the kids, Ray? We need to contact them.”

“After midnight when things get moving, sure.” Ray looked to the clock. They had half an hour.

“We’ll need free access to the whole of the restaurant to locate the children.” Egon frowned. “We’ll need to be ready to fend off both netherworld spirits and anything they might possess.”

“Ghosts and killer robots. This job just gets better and better.” Peter dragged a hand down his face. “Okay, so Zedd and I cover you two, and we blast Freddy and his pizza loving pals if they get to close.”

“I’d rather we attempt evasion over assault. Using a proton beam on those sorts of mechanics could easily result in a fire; if this building burns down we could easily lose the spirits.” Egon looked away. “I’d rather we do anything we can to lay them to rest.”

“Agreed.” The others echoed.

Ray held up a scrap of paper. “I have the basic layout here; we’ll do a room by room search until we get a spike; Peter, Winston, you stay in this main dining area here, between the main stage and pirate cove; that way you can watch all the animatronics.”

“Pirate’s cove?” A smile graced Peter’s face. “I thought this place was a rip off of Chuck E. Cheese; there’s a pirate?”

“A fox pirate.” Egon said absently, eyes flicking over the paperwork. “If you care to investigate it further you have time; Ray and I have a few more things to set up.”

“Sure. You coming Zedd?”

“Sure.”

They made their way into the main room. Peter beelined for the smaller stage. Winston staked out a table between the two areas. If these things were haunted by netherworld beings, it was prudent to keep an eye on all of them.

Peter stepped onto the platform and pushed the curtain aside. A run-down red fox with a hook and an eyepatch stared at nothing, jaws open. The metal fangs shone in the dull light.

“Jeeze, this guy looks like a fox fur that moths have gotten to.” Peter tapped it, producing metallic clicks, “What say ye, me rusting hearty?”

“ **Arrr, h-h-h-hello there kiddies!** ” 

Peter jumped back with a startled yelp as the fox raised a hook and garbled out his greeting. It’s eyes flashed yellow. The hook slashed through the spot Peter occupied moments before.

“Pete!” Winston leapt up, but Peter waved him off.

“Jeez, give a guy a heart attack.” He sucked in a breath as the thing wound back down. “I take it all back. Ninjas are a-okay in my book.”

“Why don’t we just wait for Egon and Ray to start their patrol?” Winston suggested, pulling the curtain shut.

“Works for me.” Peter looked back at the curtain, unease roiling in his stomach. This would be a long night.

\-------------------------

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Egon watched the green dot steadily grow as he and Ray approached the stage. It was a few minutes after midnight. Peter and Winston stood behind them, Peter watching the pirate’s cove area, Winston the main stage. The animatronics showed no sign of movement. “There’s definitely something powerful inhabiting these animatronics. It’s muddled, however; the scanner can’t identify a class.”

“Maybe the kids are nearby; that could confuse the readings.” Ray proposed.

“That’s possible. Our best chance to clear up the readings is to tempt the netherworld spirits out of the mechanics and then proceed with entrapment. Then we’ll have an easier time locating the other spirits and...doing whatever we can.” Egon swallowed his unease. This was no time to get sentimental. There’d be time for that after the children were put to rest.

Ray didn’t share his approach. “They must be so _scared_ , Egon. No wonder they haven’t shown up before; whatever’s in these things is enough to scare off most netherworld inhabitants, let alone kids.”

The dot flicked from green to red. Egon peered over his spectacles at Ray. “I think they can hear you Raymond.”

Ray turned to face the stage. Was it his imagination, or had that bear’s paw changed positions?

“You guys alright?” Peter’s voice echoed behind them.

“Yes, for the moment.” Egon watched the red dot pulsate. That was strange, it shouldn’t be able to display in such a--

_PIFF!_

The display died with a spark. A wisp of smoke curled from the meter.

“That’s disheartening.”

Ray yelped, speeding backward. Egon looked up and saw the three robots were now staring right at the two of them.

“They must have moved when I looked back at you!” Ray gasped. 

“Interesting.” Egon fiddled with the meter. One of the chips was burned out. “Hmm. I don’t have a spare chip on me; we’ll be down a meter until I can replace it.”

“Should we wait to do this in the daylight?” Winston called. 

“No, these spirits go quiet during the daylight hours.” Egon holstered the broken meter. “It’s night or nothing.”

Ray, heart slowing down, approached the animatronics again. They didn’t move. He took out the spectergraph; Less precise, but heartier. “They’re definitely waking up. I don’t see any signs of spirits other than the ones in these guys in the immediate area.”

“As we suspected. Anything weaker than these spirits would be wise to stay out of their way; we may have quite a bit of searching ahead.” Egon looked back at Peter and Winston. “We’ve ruled out this room, at least.”

Peter had wandered back towards the pirate area; he was leaning over a glass countertop, looking down at something. Egon frowned. It was unlike Peter to drop his guard on an assignment like this; unheard of when he was watching his teammates backs.

Which meant something was very, very wrong.

“Peter?”

Peter turned, brow wrinkled in confusion. He opened his mouth, ready to call back some quip.

Then a black and white striped specter rose up and snatched him into the darkness.

\----------------

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

“PETER!”

Egon’s scream followed him into the darkness. He was pulled back, dragged over smooth floors. Peter struggled, but his arms and legs were constricted by tight ropes. Something was jammed over his head, muffling his cries. Whatever this was, it was too solid to be a ghost. 

“If you wish to live to see the daylight, I suggest you cease your struggling. Too many unhappy dead haunt this place already.”

 

The cold voice sliced through his bellows. It wasn’t the robotic chattering of the animatronics, but it wasn’t human either. 

“Is that a threat?” Peter spat out each syllable so it’d get through whatever covered his head.

“It is a fact.” The voice sounded utterly calm. No accent that Peter could identify. It was otherworldly.

Just like they’d suspected.

“Are you the one feeding off those kids souls?” Peter twisted, but couldn’t break free.

The dragging stopped. “What was that?”

“We know there are human kids here. Something’s been feeding off them and either taking people to the other side or killing them.” Peter growled. “So, was it you?”

There was a moment of silence. The ropes pulsed around him. 

No, not ropes. _Limbs._

Then the laughter started. It was like a rock or a toaster breaking into guffaws; something so inhuman Peter could barely wrap his head around it. He shuddered.

“You humans, thinking you have all the answers.” The laughs stopped. “You are, of course, totally wrong about what is happening here.”

“Then enlighten me. Or are you just taking me to the netherworld to kill me?”

“We are not in the netherworld.” The voice said, in the same patient tone. “We have not even left the confines of the restaurant. I no longer care to leave it’s walls.”

“With the great atmosphere of death and crummy pizza, who wants to go?” Peter heard shouts not far off. “My friends are about to arrive. You have minutes before they zap and trap your sorry ass.”

“That is supposed to be a threat.” The voice sighed. “Let me give you several truths, Ghostbuster. You do not understand what evil stalks these halls; not a tenth of it comes from specters. A human murdered those children, and a human waits to destroy what is left of their souls.”

Peter sucked in a deep breath. It tasted of must and copper. They hadn’t thought about the sicko taking the kids still being active. “Is he here now?”

“Not that I know of. But I’m hardly omnipotent. Stop your questions; we have limited time.” 

The shouts were closer. The limbs pulsed.

“Your friends were right about one thing and one thing only; the spirits inhabiting the animatronics are powerful and angry. But they are not from another realm.”

“But--” 

“You are a psychologist; consider the consequences to a child’s mind of being ripped from life, thrust into an alien body, and forced to watch death after death while your killer walks free.

“Consider the consequences to those unfortunates that share the appearance of their killer.

“Consider what actions they may take for vengeance.

“CONSIDER THE UNCONSIDERABLE.” The voice was next to his ear, inside whatever was covering his head. Peter cried out and reached for his thrower, limbs free.

Light burst on him. Egon, Ray, and Winston crowded into a doorway, throwers drawn.

Peter reached up and knocked whatever was on his head away. A hollow animatronic bear head tumbled to the floor.

Egon rushed to his side. “Are you alright?!”

“I’m--I’m--” Peter spun around, trying to locate his captor. The only thing in the room were bits of robots and empty suits. Nothing with ropy limbs. Whatever had taken him was long gone. 

“Peter?” Egon pressed.

Peter took a shaky breath. “I’m okay. But guys...we’re...we’re really in trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Winston adjusted the grip on his thrower.

“The animatronics aren’t possessed by netherworld spirits. It’s the kids.”

“They can’t be.” Ray’s denial was automatic. “The animatronics have something really powerful inside. It’s not human, the signatures are..warped.”

“Warped like someone that’s been murdered? Someone with unfinished business?”

“Well...I mean...maybe. But kids, Peter, kids could never--”

“He may be onto something.” Egon’s face was pale, but composed. “It explains a lot of the strange readings.”

“No. No, it can’t be. The animatronics might have killed someone. No child could…” Ray looked at his teammates for support.

Winston placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ray. It’s possible. I’ve seen living teenagers-- _children_ \--do things--”

“That was in war! That’s not the same!” Ray pushed his hand away. 

“Um, gentlemen?” Egon spoke up. “No one is watching the animatronics.”

They raced for the door. A blank stage greeted them.

Peter pasted a fake smile on his face. “Seems like our luck’s the same as ever.”

\---------------------------------

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Ray stalked down the hall, heart hammering; hands clamped around the thrower. It was more for show than use; he didn’t dare risk frying the animatronics and destroying--

_No_. Peter _had_ to have been lied to. They didn’t even know what had taken him into the back room, how could they trust what it said?

Nevermind that it explained the warped readings. There were other explanations. 

He just couldn’t think of them.

“Ray, you alright?” Winston asked, low.

“Mm.” Ray peered into the kitchen; the silver cookware shone, but didn’t reveal any murderous robots. His meter was silent. 

If, _if_ a child’s soul was attached to one of those things, it clearly wasn’t in control. Maybe it was just along for the ride, with netherworld entities controlling it. That would account for the warping. Maybe the abnormalities too. He’d have to go over it with Egon.

“Ray, stop!” Winston brushed past him, thrower at the ready. “I heard something.”

Ray froze. Peter and Egon were investigating the room Peter had been taken to. It was on the other side of the place. If anything in here was moving, it wasn’t human.

“Winston, we can’t shoot.” Ray stood next to him, peering into a dark corner of the kitchen. 

“Then what do we do?”

“I’m sure we can wrestle it to the ground if we need to.” Ray slid the thrower back into the holster. It was a plush-wrapped robot; they were two able bodied men. They could handle it.

Winston took a step and hissed. “Aw man. It’s just a broken camera.”

Ray peered past him; a wall-mounted camera pointed at the floor, whirring pathetically. “That’s good, but we still don’t know where the robots are.”

Behind them, something operatic tinkled.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is short, but longer ones are on the way.


	8. Chapter 8

“I’m fine. I’m _fine_.” Peter hissed as Egon fumbled with the broken meter, trying to bypass the burned out switch. “Egon, I’m fine!”

Egon looked up, eyes cold. “I believe you Peter. But I... _we_ need to track the thing that took you. We have no idea what it is, and we need to get more data to handle it.”

Peter smoothed his hair back. “Whatever it was, it’s still around here. It said it liked it here. Let’s just try some old fashioned detective work, okay? Look for a trap door or something. You can swipe Ray’s Spectergraph later if you really need it.”

Egon holstered the meter, dissatisfied. “Where would you suggest we begin?”

“The walls.” Peter pushed a stack of empty boxes away from one wall. “Look for a seam; something easily hidden. Whatever it was that grabbed me was too solid to pass through the wall; there’s got to be an opening.”

Egon peered overtop his spectacles. “Hmm. Does that vent look secure to you?”

Peter lifted his gaze. A fair-sized vent lay just above their heads. Peter reached up; the grate swung away from the wall. “Good eye Spengs.”

Egon kicked a box to the wall. “I’ll have an easier time fitting than you; my shoulders are narrower.”

“Show me where it says either of us have to get in there.” Peter protested. “You can’t go in alone. That vent could drop you right into a robot’s lap.”

“Robots we need to find. If what you were told is true, those animatronics hold the very souls we need to free.” Egon looked away. “Not that I’m sure that is still an option.”

“What else can we do? We can’t put them in the containment unit. Kids? _Human_ kids?” 

“Kids that may be responsible for several murders.” Egon replied, cold. “We can’t free them from the robots and allow them to roam if they’re dangerous.”

“So we’ll get them to disperse.” Peter snapped. “Egon, these kids were murdered by someone working here, and watched it happen over and over. They’re probably trying to defend themselves.”

“Regardless of motive--”

“We can’t just--”

A scream interrupted the fight.

Peter snatched the walkie-talkie as they ran into the main room. Still no sign of the robots. The purple curtain of Pirate’s Cove was open too. “Ray, Winston, are you okay?!”

There was no answer, but the bellows continued. It was coming from the kitchen. Peter raced on, almost outpacing Egon’s long strides. The door to the kitchen was shut. Peter reached for the handle, dropping the walkie to the floor.

The lights flickered and the cries were drowned out by a demonic screech. A huge golden face hung in front of them, it’s eyes a black void. Peter screamed and backpedaled, smashing into Egon. Both of them went sprawling to the floor. In the dark, something thundered past them. Peter felt a crushing weight on his left hand; something ledened, but covered in padding, smashed it to the floor.

The lights came back; Egon sat up, hands clamped around his thrower. His glasses hung askew, not masking the fright in his eyes. He looked unhurt.

Peter pushed himself up with his good hand and scrambled into the kitchen. “Guys!”

Winston was sprawled on the floor, a bloody smear streaking his forehead. Ray knelt over him, pale and trembling. 

“Zedd!” Peter joined Ray. “Ray, what happened?”

“It got the jump on us, and Winston was closer.” Ray held the older man’s wrist; it had a strong, steady pulse. “It took a swipe at him, then the lights went out and it took off.”

Egon joined them and inspected the gash. “We need to clear the blood. I can’t see how bad it is.”

Winston groaned, setting off a new round of jumps. “Anyone get the licence plate on that bear?”

“Hey, don’t steal my lines.” Peter’s voice shook. He helped Winston into an upright position. “A guy gets knocked out and he thinks he can get away with anything.”

“I wasn’t out, just fuzzy for a sec.” Winston hissed as Egon wiped away the blood. “I saw a first aid kit by the door. Stitches will have to wait, but a bandage would be good.”

Ray sprang away to get the kit. 

“I doubt you’ll need stitches.” Egon finished wiping the blood; the gash wasn’t very long or deep. “Though skin glue would be wise.”

Ray returned, kit in hand. “Winston, I’m so sorry--”

Winston waved the apology off. “It’s okay, Ray. You pulled that thing off me. Nothing to be sorry about.”

Ray didn’t look convinced, but didn’t argue.

“There an ice-pack in that thing? I think Pappa Bear stepped on my hand when he exited stage left.” Now that Winston was fine Peter could start complaining again.

Egon pulled a break and freeze instant ice pack from the box and handed it to Peter. “I suppose it would be foolish to ask if anyone got any readings during the attacks?”

“Attacks? Plural?” Winston smoothed a bandage over his forehead.

Peter nodded. “We saw...Egon, what did we see?”

“A floating, screaming, gold-colored bear head without eyes.” Egon snapped the box closed.

“That.”

“A gold Freddy?” Ray frowned. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“They had a gold version of that character when the old place was open. Back when there were different animatronics.” Ray looked troubled. “This is getting complicated.”

Peter leaned against a wall and held the ice to his hand. “You said it Ray.”

\--------------------

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

Egon studied the vent, the others behind him. They’d agreed splitting up would be inadvisable with the unusual physical element this haunting presented.

And he needed someone to keep an eye on Peter while he was wriggling through the walls. His hand was swollen, badly bruised, with possible fractures. Not that they were using the throwers on the robots. Winston was guarding the door, but hadn’t see any animatronics or ethereal floating heads. 

It was only 2 am. Four more hours to solve the mystery. Egon removed his bulky pack and meter. 

“If you hear me screaming I’d advise using the throwers on the wall itself.” He hoisted himself into the vent before Peter could protest. It was a tight squeeze, but not impassable; the others wouldn’t have a hope of using it if they heard anything distressing.

Egon squirmed forwards, flinching from the touch of spiderwebs on his face. The strands were all broken; something physical had slithered down this path before him.

Why had it fled when they had approached? If Peter’s kidnapper was benevolent (or at least neutral) why hadn’t it stayed to relay its tale to them? And if it was malevolent, why hadn’t it done more than drag Peter away? There had been ample time to damage a human body.

Egon stopped. Were the walls pressing in?

No. He was panicking; his breath was too fast, too deep. He needed to get out of here. The tunnel was dark, his mass blocking light and sound from behind. 

Egon inched ahead, panting. His fingers met metal. Was the vent blocked? No, just a corner. He pulled himself around, and was rewarded with dim slatted light several feet ahead.

The vent was just as loose as his entrance point. Egon pushed it open and leaned out; a table was under him; the fall would be short.

Dust flew up as he landed in an ungraceful belly flop on the table. He rolled off as it creaked, trying not to sneeze. No element of surprise here.

He turned back to the vent and cupped his hands around his mouth. “I’m alright!”

There was a gabled response that might have come from Peter. It sounded calm, at least.

Egon turned around. It was a small room, maybe 12 by 12, with the dusty table and a few misshapen lumps in the corner. A pull cord hung from the ceiling. Egon tugged it; a dim, flickering light clicked on, string disintegrating in his fingers.

The corner lumps were dull yellow heaps of cloth. The dust on the floor had been disturbed recently; Peter’s captor had been here. A door was on the side wall, but it didn’t let in any light. Egon tugged at the handle; it was stuck fast from the outside. He put his eye to the crack between doors; utterly black. 

The room had been sealed off. 

“Hmm.” Egon walked to one of the lumps of cloth and prodded it. It wobbled unsteadily, and the top part tumbled down.

A gape-faced eyeless bear head stared up at him.

Egon jerked back. It was the same face that’d screamed at them, no mistake. Ray had mentioned yellow suit versions of some of the characters. These were clearly them, but why were they sealed in this room? 

He picked up the head; it was hollow and stiff. The scent of must and copper wafted from within.

He peered closer; reddish stains, scrubbed at but still present, discolored the mouth.

Blood.

Egon set the head down. “I don’t need a meter to know there’s something here.”

The cloth remained motionless. Had the dust swirled a little around it?

He swallowed. “We’re not here to hurt you. We want to put an end to the deaths.”

Dust particles wafted from the floor, as if a light step brushed them.

“You’re not the same being that kidnapped my friend. But I think that being wanted to help you. To help all the children trapped here.”

A small shoe-print stamped into the dust. 

Egon looked at the other lump of cloth. It wasn’t perturbed by the goings on. “We’re going to find who did this and stop them.”

The dust flew up, and for a moment Egon saw a small figure outlined there. It stood still, hands out, pleading before the dust broke apart.

Egon swallowed a lump. “I promise.”

\--------------

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Sister Location got my juices flowing again (no, no spoilers, not even a reference [that I'm aware of].) Thanks for waiting!

Winston worked the dull knife into the plaster and drywall that sealed off the room Egon was in. It had taken careful shouts and meter readings, but they’d finally located the door. Now they had to break in and rescue the scientist; he refused to leave the room with Ray’s meter, or so he echoed. “Almost in.”

“Why seal off a room? Floorspace in a place like this is at a premium. Why not use it?” Peter massaged his throbbing hand. Aspirin and ice dulled the pain to tolerable levels, but he would be stiff and sore for a week.

“And why wasn’t it on the layout?” Ray studied the paper; the gap between the rooms was small, apparently housing some electrical components; nothing a human would be able to fit in, much less anything Egon had found. “This is really weird.”

Winston tore off a large chunk of plaster, revealing an ancient padlock and a rusty handle. “This thing is weaker than the drywall.”

He tugged it and the door inched open. 

“Egon, you still alive?” Peter called.

“I am.” Egon’s voice poured through the crack. A load fell off Winston’s shoulders as he opened the door. 

Ray held out the meter, which beeped wildly. “What happened? I’ve got some strong residuals.”

“There is a disused mascot costume in this room; the same one Peter and I saw in phantasmal form.” Egon indicated a misshapen yellow lup at his feet. “This is a child’s soul attached to it; the connection is strong, but the ghost is weak; nothing like the spirits we’ve monitored in the rest of the establishment.”

Peter considered this. “That spirit was trying to communicate with us before. Glad it got through to you, Spengs.”

Ray handed Egon the meter. Egon studied it over his spectacles. “This answers our inquiries as to the intent of the creature that took you Peter, if not justifying the methodology it employed. This spirit is trapped with the costume, and as such can’t maneuver like the others. We never would have discovered it without assistance.”

Winston had picked up the head and was inspecting it. “There’s blood on this.”

“Indeed.”

Winston placed the head back on the table, face rigid. “I bet evidence of a murder would shut this place down pretty fast. Might be the sort of thing an owner would want to forget about.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “They sealed this room off to hide the evidence?”

“Just a theroy.” Winston picked up the suit; it was heavy and jangled. Something metallic was inside. He laid it on the table. It was spotted with all sorts of strains. “I bet Frump would be real interested in seeing all this.”

Ray pulled a small book from one of the pockets on his suit and glanced through it. “There’s some precedence for this. When a lot of young spirits congregate they can do things normal ghosts can’t. But if they’re separated, or alone, they become less substantial. This happened a lot in old castles and dungeons.”

Peter shuddered. “So, our helpful ghost is weak, our informant is some weird thing that likes to run and hide, and we’re still dealing with possessed robots that can kill us.”

“Not to mention a living killer.” Winston curled one hand into a fist. 

Egon laid out the other suit; it was a rabbit, unstained, and disused. “If I was less optimistic about our odds of resolving this issue, I’d say we should retreat until daylight.”

Peter nodded. “We’re staying until this one is solved. I think we all agree on that.”

Clangs drowned out any dissent the others might have offered. 

Peter dashed to the open doorway. Foxy rushed at him, jaws open, hook gouging the wall, screaming a garbled cry. Peter braced himself in the doorway; it wouldn’t get to the others.

To his astonishment, the fox ran past, cry stuttering as the hook scraped the tip of Peter’s nose.

“Peter!” He was yanked backwards as the fox rounded a corner, heading back for the main room.

“I’m okay!” Peter wiped away the droplet of blood before Egon could see. “It ran by, like it didn’t even see me.”

“Don’t let it get away! We can try to reason with it.” Ray dashed past him, thrower out. 

“Ray!” Winston yelled as the red-head vanished around the corner. “Wait! We don’t know where the others--”

He was already gone.

\---------------

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Ray dashed down the hall; the metal footfalls drowned out all other noise. It didn’t matter. If he could corner one of these things he could talk to it; make it understand they were there to help.

He couldn’t bear to think of the alternatives.

Foxy was faster than any robot should be; Ray nearly lost him as they rounded a corner. He was back in the kitchen.

Red eyes glowed at him from the darkness. 

“Um, hi.” Ray waved his free hand, awkward. “I, uh, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

Something whirred.

“I’m here to stop the person who did this.” Ray swallowed. The robot wasn’t rushing at him, that was a good start. “We want to help you move on.”

Something thrust at him from the dark; not a hook, but the orange-yellow beak of the bird mascot. Ray jerked back as the metal teeth flashed. A horrible screech followed him. He hit a counter-top. Nowhere else to run.

Ray’s hands trembled. “Please don’t make me do this.”

The head lunged forward. Ray fired a short burst. The face of the robot erupted into flames and it crashed to the floor. The fire petered out as the head rolled free, blackened. The scream warbled on a few seconds before dying.

Ray holstered his thrower, chest tight. The head came to a stop next to his boot. He bent to pick it up, tears pattering to the tiled floor.

The the remaining eye lit up.

\-------

“Ray!” Winston burst into the kitchen, Peter and Egon steps behind. He’d heard the thrower erupt. Smoke filled the air. Ray stood, back to the door. A smouldering yellow and black lump lay at his feet.

Winston lowered his thrower. “You alright?”

Ray didn’t turn around.

Winston’s grip on the thrower tightened. “Ray?”

Ray jerked. He shuffled around to face Winston.

His eyes and mouth were obliterated by yellow light.

Winston held in a gasp. “Shit.”

Ray’s mouth hung open, creating three perfect blazing Os. Winston heard Peter and Egon pounding up the hallway. 

“Winston, what--” Egon stopped at the doorway. “Oh my God.”

“Ray!” Peter lunged forward, but Egon stopped him. “What happened?!”

“If I had to venture a guess, Raymond destroyed the robot, unleashing the spirit inside, who chose him as it’s new vessel.” Egon said, calm. “We could attempt to separate them if we adjust the frequencies on the throwers.”

Peter shook off Egon’s grip. “I’ve been on the receiving end of that, it’s no day at the beach. It’s not even a day at Love canal.”

Winston took a deep breath. “Can we speak to Ray?”

Ray’s face jerked. “He is here.”

“We need to talk to him.”

“I need this vessel.” The voice was higher than Ray’s normal tone, and emotionless.

“That’s not what I asked.”

The thing inside Ray considered this. “He destroyed my last vessel.”

“Yeah, we noticed.” Peter stepped besides Winston. “We’re trying to help, kid.”

The entity tilted Ray’s head. “You are not here to help.”

“Yes we are.” Peter eased closer. “We know someone here...put you in that thing.”

The entity flinched.

“We want to stop them. We want to get you out of the animatronics.”

The entity closed Ray’s eyes. The monotone faded into a plea. “Can I...go home?”

Peter looked away. “You’ll move on.”

Rays eyes opened, still blazing with light. “When he dies. Then I can go.”

Peter looked to Egon. What could they do? If they pulled the entity out of Ray and trapped it that would solve nothing. They didn’t even know who the killer was, and even if they did they couldn’t murder him to help the souls move on.

Though there was temptation in the through. No messy court proceedings, no technicalities, no escapes.

But no justice either.

“We need our friend back to help you.” Egon was firm. 

The light turned on him. “If I leave this vessel the others will attack.”

The sounds of “Toreador” poured through the halls.

\-----

 

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter, just in time for Halloween! Sorry for the delays, my show is about to go up and I've been extra busy.

Ray struggled to move. His body was no longer his own. The spirit had total control. He could see everything the spirit saw. Right now that was limited to his friends worried faces.

 

This possessions felt different than his previous experiences. He could see everything, but it was like watching a TV. His other senses were equally deadened. 

 

His outward struggles were failing. Time for another tactic.

 

“Hello?” Ray ‘called out’. Perhaps the entity would speak with him now that they were sharing a body. “Can you hear me?”

 

There was a frantic scuffling somewhere to his left. Ray lifted his eyes from the ‘screens’ and looked right, into the darkness. There was a faint suggestion of a doorway, but he couldn’t move towards it. 

 

“Hello?” He strained his eyes, but nothing appeared in the frame. “My friends and I really are here to help. If you want to talk I’m right here.”

 

The shuffling faded into the distance. Ray sighed. He could wait. Until the guys freed him he’d have nothing but time.

 

\-----

 

“I’m not sure we want Frump barging in here.” Peter frowned as Winston put in a call.

 

“This has gone beyond our expertise, Peter.” Egon peered over his glasses at his friend. “We have evidence of murder; the police have to be involved.”

 

“Yeah, but couldn’t we have waited until we de-possessed Ray?”

 

They were sitting in the kitchen. Ray’s eyes and mouth were closed, blotting out the inhuman light.

 

“I promised I’d call him if we found something.” Winston hung up the phone. “He’ll be here soon.”

 

Peter snorted. “He probably tailed us here. Think he’ll try to pin it all on us?”

 

Winston looked sidelong at Ray. “Not this time.”

 

\-----

 

Frump rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. It was three in the morning, and he was running on coffee and the the ghost of a burrito. “Okay, let me make sure I understand this. The guards that vanished were murdered by the robots, who are possessed by the ghosts of kids that went missing over the years at these restaurants, and now Stantz is _also_ possessed by said ghost.”

 

“And I thought he’d have trouble following the plot.” Peter smirked.

 

Egon ignored him. “The entity inside Ray is insisting it won’t move on until the killer has been dealt with. The other entities are of a like mind, which is why they’ve been attacking the guards.”

 

“Or worse.” Frump looked at Ray, eyes narrowed.

 

“Living criminals are outside our purview, lieutenant.” Egon continued. 

 

Frump nodded “Why don’t you show me that suit you found, Sargent. I’ll have a look, then we’ll see if I need to call backup.”

 

“Sure thing.” Winston started into the hallway. 

 

“Think we should warn him about the bear?” Peter asked, just loud enough for Frump to hear.

 

“I’ve got it Pete.” Winston led him away.

 

Egon cleaned his glasses, slowly. “I know you dislike Frump, but we need him.”

 

“I’ve got other things to worry about besides New York’s biggest waste of taxpayer money.” Peter walked over to Ray. “How long before we use the throwers to end this?”

 

“Until right before daybreak. I’m not sure what will happen if the entity is within Ray at that time, and I don’t want to find out.” Egon replaced his glasses. “I’m concerned too, Peter.”

 

Peter sagged. “This is a nightmare.”

 

“I’m not sure what I can say to help.” Egon faltered. “I’m not sure anything that _can_ help.”

 

“At the end of the day, those men and these kids will still be gone. Best case we help them move on, and make sure a killer goes to jail.” Peter looked down at Ray. “There’s so much death here, Egon.”

 

Egon joined him at Ray’s side. “You would think a couple of Ghostbusters would be used to death on the job.”

 

“Yeah. I can’t even get used to Slimer sleeping on my pillow.” Peter faked a smile, mask back in place.

 

Egon let it go. There’d be time to deal with emotional fallout later.

\----------------------

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

Ray stared at the faint yellow entity glowing in the ‘doorway’. “Want to come in?”

 

The thing jerked, unsure. It had strange proportions. Not human.

 

Not anymore.

 

Ray steadied himself. “That’s not you. That’s the body you were in. C’mon in as you. I won’t bite.”

 

The thing swayed, ethereal. “You...destroyed my vessel.”

 

Ray steadied himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, but you were going to hurt me.”

 

“But it was mine and you _ruined_ it.” The voice rose, monotone fading into childish petulance.

 

“I know.”

 

The thing rushed at him, screeching. The strange glowing yellow melted away as it crossed the threshold, leaving a small girl. She ran to Ray and pounded her tiny fists against his chest. “I hate you! I hate you!”

 

Now he could move (whatever that entailed in this space). He caught her wrists and gently held them. “I know.”

 

The girl stopped struggling and burst into frantic sobs. Ray scooped her up and held her close.

 

“He hurt me...He hurt us, and then he stopped coming...and the others came, and they didn’t hurt us...but they looked like him...we didn’t know...I...We…”

 

Ray let her cry. The sobs subsided into hiccups. 

 

“They were _wrong_. They were out of their suits.” She snuffled into his chest. “Something...told us it was important. For them to be in suits. Like bones outside. And then when they were inside the suits they couldn’t hurt anyone. But...I don’t think they hurt anyone. They looked like the man that hurt us, but they _weren’t_. At night we put them in suits to stop the hurt, and make things right, and nothing was right, and it just kept _hurting_.”

 

Ray tightened his hold on the child. He’d been half right. The programming in the suits had affected the spirits, making them ‘correct’ the guards. But the children wanted to stop the hurt.

 

The children killed people.

 

“What’s your name?” There had to be something to cling to.

 

“I don’t remember.” 

 

Ray wished there was more light; he couldn’t see anything about the girl, other than a gray silhouette and shining tear tracks. “It’s okay. Can I give you another name?”

 

The girl nodded and rested her head on his chest. 

 

“Sally.” He plucked a name from the air. “Is that alright?”

 

Another nod, slower. “I’m sorry I scared you, Mr. Ghostbuster.”

 

“You can call me Ray.”

\--------------

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay; between my show going up and the holiday I just had no time for anything. I'm writing the next (possibly) last few chapters now, so it'll be done soon. I hope.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

\-----

Frump wasn’t shocked by the blood-spattered costume; after fifteen years on the force he doubted he _could_ be shocked. It was just evidence, in need of catalogue and study.

“Thanks Zeddemore.” He nodded. 

“It’s no more than we agreed on.” Winston stood near a dusty table, arms crossed. “The ghost inside Ray said the killer was a guard, and that he’s still around.”

Frump shook his head. “There are a few guards that have been on since the old days, but there was never enough evidence to narrow it down to one guy.”

Winston narrowed his eyes. “You have a hunch?”

“Yeah, but it’s flimsier than the lines Venkman tries to feed me.” Frump looked to the door. “But maybe now--”

Then the lights cut out.

\-----

Peter spun in the darkness. “I thought the owner had the generators powered up!”

“They did.” Egon said, sure. “This isn’t a power failure; the emergency lights are off. Someone cut the power.”

Ray’s eyes opened, light spilling onto the pale men. “He’s coming.”

Peter scanned the darkness, illuminated only by their packs and Ray’s eyes. 

Winston jogged to the door, Frump puffing behind him, gun drawn. “You guys okay?”

“The entity inside Raymond said ‘ _He_ is coming.’” Egon adjusted something on his thrower. “I believe it’s referring to the murderer.”

“Of course it it.” Frump huffed but didn’t holster his weapon.

The thing piped up again, spilling light on the floor. “The others will be angry. Be careful.”

Frump gawked at the lightshow. “Holy mother of God.”

Peter fixed him with a bitter smile. “Believe us now?”

\------------------

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delay...I'm assistant directing a play, doing taxes, and trying to make the ending of this satisfying. It's written, just not polished. Thanks for being patient.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

\----

Ray held the girl, eyes locked on the screens. “Sally, can you let me take over? I’d like to let the guys know I’m okay. Or help them if they’re in trouble.”

Sally didn’t move. “There’s no help. He’s coming, and he’ll kill someone, or _we’ll_ kill him.”

Ray suppressed a shudder. “I know you’re mad. And you’re still in pain. But killing won’t help anything.”

Sally was still for a few moments. “It’ll make him stop hurting others.”

Ray tightened his grip, words lost.

\-------

Peter watched Ray, but the man didn’t move. “Tex, if you can hear us, keep the little Murderer calm in there. We’ve got a cop, we don’t need afterlife justice.”

“Can we get the power back on?” Frump pressed. “I’d rather not take a shot in the dark. Literally.”

“The generators are on the other side of the facility.” Egon said.

“Of course they are.” Winston sighed. “So either we stay in the dark and wait for who or whatever’s out there to come after us, or we try and fight our way through several possessed killer robots, and maybe a human intruder.”

“We can’t take Ray out there like this.” Peter frowned. “If late-night B horror movies have taught me anything, splitting up is the worst plan.”

“There may be another option.” Egon looked at Ray. “Can _you_ tell us where he is?”

Rays eyes closed. “Going to the special room. Where the others can’t go.”

“The room that wasn’t on the blueprints.” Egon nodded.

“The room Spengler stumbled into.” Frump clarified.

“Yeah. And if it’s not on the blueprints, I bet it’s not in the robot’s programming.” Winston’s expression darkened. The owners had kept that room off every possible grid. “So that’s where the killer did everything; the one spot the robots couldn’t go to stop him.”

“The place that’d be totally forgotten after it was boarded up.” Peter remember the blood-stained costume. “He’s going after the evidence!”

At that, Frump took off, gun clenched in hand. No robot, ghost, or Ghostbuster was going to stop him from catching a child murderer.

The others ran behind them. Ray’s body followed, slow and steady. The others would not harm this particular vessel; not with one of their own inside.

One way or another, it was coming to an end.

\--------------

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will indeed be the last chapter. I've finally got past my writers block, and this is coming to a long-awaited end.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

\----------

 

Frump huffed, gun drawn close to his chest. The Ghostbusters crashed down the hall behind him. Those clowns were going to alert the perp!

Too late to stop them now. Maybe it was for the best. Better to have witnesses on hand.

There were loud *CLANKS* coming from far off, hiding any human-made noise from the hidden room. Maybe the Ghostbusters had been on the level about the malfunctioning robots. 

He still wasn’t sure what to make of Stantz.

Venkman pulled up beside him as they slowed, the doorway just steps away. There might have been a faint shuffling in the costume room, Frump couldn’t quite hear.

“Stay behind me.” Frump hissed. Last thing he needed was for someone to get shot.

Venkman nodded and dropped back a few steps, smart-ass remarks on hold. He didn’t like the man, but at least Venkman knew when things were really serious.

Frump crept close, heart thudding. Best case scenario some kid was in early for the morning shift.

Frump didn’t get many best case scenarios during his career.

He snuck a glance around the doorway.

A huge golden rabbit loomed inside, shuffling towards the door.

Okay, _that_ was a new one.

He drew a bead on the figure. “Freeze!”

The figure was in shadows, false eyes glinting with what little light there was. “I’m unarmed, officer. If you shoot me IAB won’t forget it easily.”

Frump jerked. “S’dark. I got witnesses. And cameras.”

The figure froze for a second. “ _If_ the power comes back on, all the cameras will see is you shooting an unarmed man in a costume, detective.”

Venkman crowded behind him. “Hiding inside a costume? Have we wandered into a Scooby-Doo cartoon?”

The figure laughed. “They brought in the Ghostbusters? Really? A few bad circuits and flaky employees, and they jump right to ghosts.”

Peter edged closer. “You _know_ there are ghosts.” 

The guffaws cut off and the glinting eyes turned to Peter. “Liar!”

“And they want _you_.” Peter probed. “There’s a lot of nasty stuff waiting for you on the other side, man. They all remember who put them there. Better come with us unless you want them to take you there.”

The figure turned away, the glints disappearing. “Nice show, Ghostbuster. Almost as good as the animatronic show the put on around here. But all you have on me is trespassing. An employee coming to get his keys a little earlier than permitted. I can’t even get _fired_ for that!”

“Also wearing a bloody costume and being a creepy weirdo.” Peter ticked the offenses off. “And hey, why not throw a few murders on top of that?”

“Where are the other guards, Dave?” Frump barked.

The figure swiveled back to him, uncannily like an actual robot. “I’m flattered you remember me Detective.”

“I never forget a felon.” Frump didn’t break eye contact; human eyes stared from the wide mouth of the costume. “Are any of the missing guards still alive?”

“How should I know? They’re night shift. I’m day shift. And whatever you think I did in the past--”

“I know you did, Dave. Forensics just aren’t good enough to prove it.”

“--I never touched these men.” The figure finished, and held up one paw higher. “Honest injun.”

“Oh gee, I guess I had it all wrong.” Frump growled. “I said freeze!”

He held the paws aloft, silent. Frump would have bet dollars to donuts that creep was smirking under that ridiculous rabbit head.

Peter weighed his options carefully. Egon and Zedd were behind him.This guy wasn’t armed, he wasn’t very mobile, trapped in that clunky suit. If they rushed him they could bring him down. Frump wouldn’t have to shoot; he wouldn’t even get in trouble! It wasn’t his fault if civilians took matters into their own hands.

But they had no proof. All they had was the word of Ghosts, monsters, and Frump. Not something they could bring into court.

A chill crept up Peter’s spine. If something wasn’t done, this monster was just going to keep on killing. Something had to happen right here, right now.

“Don’t touch him.” Yellow light spilled into the room as Ray joined them, illuminating the dusty rabbit costume. 

The suit jerked back. Peter could see terrified eyes peering between the square teeth. “What the fu--”

Something inside the costume clicked, and the curse became a scream. 

The yellow light streamed from Ray’s face, flowing into the room. 

Frump drew back, gun still pointing at the rabbit. “What’s going on?”

“The components in the suit are malfunctioning.” Egon sounded calmer than he was. “I believe I recall it was built for human and endoskeleton wear. Perhaps it was discarded due to--”

There was another SNAP and the rabbit screeched, tearing awkwardly at it’s head.

“That.” Winston finished. 

Things clanged in the hall behind them. Great metallic *THWOMPS* as metallic paws hit the floor.

“Get out of the way!” Winston grabbed Peter and pulled him out of the doorway. Egon crowded them into the space just beyond the doorway. Frump stepped to the side, still in the room, out of the Robot's line of sight.

On the other side of the hall were Freddy, Foxy, and Bonnie. They stared at the Ghostbusters, unmoving.

Peter eyed Foxy’s hook warily. “He’s in there, in the rabbit suit.”

Foxy jerked, hook scraping the wall. 

Right. They weren’t programmed to know the room was there.

Peter stepped forward. Foxy didn’t move. “Don’t make me regret this, Tails.”

He touched Foxy’s arm, avoiding the hook. The fur was matted and felt oily. Underneath was hard metal and wormish wires twinging the endoskeleton. Peter pulled the arm, and Foxy jerked forwards, following him into the room. He froze mid-step in the doorway, but only for a moment.

Behind him Peter saw Egon guiding Bonnie and Winston with Freddy. In a moment they were all jammed into the small room.

Ray stumbled back as the last of the light left his face. It hung in the air, a small globe. The rabbit didn’t pay attention, still trying to get the costume off. Ray lurched back, falling into the others.

Winston grabbed his arm and steadied him. “Ray?”

Ray shook his head. “I’m alright. But Sally--”

“Who’s Sally?” Frump’s arm was down, gun still in hand. 

“I’ll explain later.” Ray stood upright. His eyes were normal again.

The robots clanked forward, forming a wall between them and the golden rabbit. Freddy’s pre-recorded laugh burbled forth, finally drawing the thing’s attention.

The rabbit stopped for a moment and stared at them, both sets of eyes wide.

Something else in the suit snapped and the figure doubled over, screaming.

Ray flinched. “What do we do?”

“I’m not sure.” Egon turned to Frump. 

The detective shook his head. “Not my jurisdiction, not yours.”

“What are you just standing there for!” The thing screamed, clawing at the costume. Something was wrong with one of its arms. “Help me! These things are going to kill me!”

A dark red stain was forming anew on the suit’s arm. And leg. And chest.

“You’re already dead.” Winston’s voice was cold.

Another series of SNAPS went off, louder than before. The thing fell to the floor, screaming and trembling. The robots just stared at him, joined by the yellow globe of light. Freddy’s laugh got louder. Foxy warbled a tune, d-du-dum dum dum. Bonnie made a screeching noise.

Egon turned from the sight, eyes locking on the forgotten bear suit in the corner. A dusty golden mist rose from it. A thin whisper came. “ _Get out_.”

Peter grabbed Egon’s arm. “Hallway, quick.”

Egon locked eyes with him. They were going to let this happen? 

Peter nodded.

The five men raced into the hall, laughter and music following them. It didn’t cover the screams and snaps.

Eventually all the sounds faded into gurgles.

\----

Frump spoke to a beat cop. The Ghostbusters were huddled around Ecto-1. They’d given their statement; a routine inspection that turned out to be a human intruder. _He’d_ attacked them, accounting for their bruises and the call to Frump. _He’d_ broken into the long-sealed spare room to destroy evidence (though Frump had chosen his words carefully here. The guys hadn’t let anything slip about the murders). _He’d_ cut the power and hid inside the suit, just in case the camera came back on. He was going to walk out wearing it; much easier than carrying it.

And then the faulty springlocks inside the suit killed him while the others looked on in horror. 

No mention was made of the robots. The three survivors were already back on their stages. Chicka was an unfortunate loss, but it was known these things malfunctioned and wandered at night. The surviving ed-guards would back them up on that. You call in the Ghostbusters, you got collateral damage.

It wasn’t a great story, but it would be enough to keep them from being arrested. They’d probably have to testify in some sort of hearing, but they’d eventually be cleared of any wrongdoing.

After all, the Ghostbusters weren’t in the business of busting murderers. 

Winston looked towards the sunrise as gold fingers crept into the sky. “Did they cross over?”

“I’m not getting any readings.” Egon touched the Spectergraph. “But…it is daylight.”

“And more death will just draw more nasty things from the other side.” Ray sounded hollow.

“We’ve gotta go back in tomorrow.” Peter said. “We have to know.”

Winston snorted. “They’re not going to let us anywhere near this place Pete. Death is bad for any business, let alone at a kid’s pizza place.”

Ray shook his head. “Sally said they’d move on once he was dead. I think she meant it.”

“We’ll monitor things in an unofficial capacity.” Egon said. “If something truly awful inhabits this space--”

“We’ll find a good reason to come back.” Peter finished. “I gotcha.”

Ray rubbed a weary hand over his face. “Did we make any difference?”

“What?” Peter looked at him.

“If we hadn’t been here that... _thing_ would have still come back. He would have gone into the room and tried to destroy the evidence anyway. And the spirits would have gone after him.” Ray shivered. “We couldn’t even _help_ those kids.”

“If we hadn’t been here he may not have felt the need to hide his identity in the rabbit suit.” Egon offered half-heartedly. “He might have waited years before becoming paranoid enough to act, if ever. He may have escaped after completing his goal. Without the robots--”

“The _children_. Sally.” Ray insisted.

“Without them in the room, he may not have panicked. The springlocks may not have failed.” Egon finished. It wasn’t much. 

Ray wasn’t buying it. “We couldn’t even help them.”

Winston shook his head. “Ray, if nothing else, you gave Sally some comfort. That’s gotta count for something.”

Ray didn’t look convinced. “All she wanted to do was make the hurting stop. She knew attacking the others wasn’t helping, but everything was twisted so badly, it was all they could try and do.”

Peter stared at the light. “I don’t know, Ray. A killer is dead, and his victims saw him die. Now he can’t hurt anyone else. The hurting has stopped. It’s something.”

Ray wasn't convinced. “I guess.”

“It may be enough that someone finally knows the truth about what happened.” Egon said. “Some spirits just want their stories told. Between that and...what just happened, it may be enough to lay everything in there to rest.”

Winston opened the driver’s door. “It’s almost 6AM guys. Let’s head home.”

“Yeah, Janine will be ticked if I don’t put the coffee on.” Peter tried for his usual joviality and failed.

The four shuffled into the Ectomobile, tired and uneasy. This was unlike their usual losses; no rampaging spirits on the loose to bust, no humans to convince of danger or guilt; just death and misery. No matter what they did, it wouldn’t bring back the children. 

It may not have even freed them.

“Guys.” Winston’s voice was tight, and drew Peter from his thoughts. “Look, quick.”

The Ectomobile was parked in front of a series of small windows, high off the ground. They let light into Freddy’s lobby, but served no other use; the view was of a parking lot after all. 

A small sandy-haired boy was waving at them from one of the windows, easily six feet off the ground. Peter waved back, unsure of what else to do.

The boy smiled and faded as sunlight hit the building.

Ray took a deep breath. “Alright. We can go now.”

They drove into the sunlight.

\--------------

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient while I finished this; I know it was a looong wait. And will the guys have to deal with Fazbear's fright, and the newly-created Springtrap? I'm not sure. But it'll be interesting to see!
> 
> As for Springtrap's human name being Dave...I straight-up lifted that from The Silver Eyes. Haven't finished the book yet, I know it turns out to be another guy, but the continuity is already diverging from anything else, so why not?


End file.
